


Memories

by angelsandbrowncoats



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Serious Injuries, no beta i wrote this in one sitting and did not reread
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-10-10 01:05:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17416037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelsandbrowncoats/pseuds/angelsandbrowncoats
Summary: When Oswald's life is threatened in the battle for Gotham, Edward fears being left with only the memories of their erratic relationship.





	Memories

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [this post](https://edwardnashtons.tumblr.com/post/181988751238/i-keep-thinking-about-the-photo-where-cory-has) by my friend who likes to make ideas that make us both hurt over fictional characters lmao. This is for you <3

“Alright, you can go in,” the medic held open the door for him, a nasty expression on her face. Edward ignored her in favor of rushing to Oswald’s side. They’d had to drag him out of the operating room during the surgery, because he kept threatening the surgeon.

 

Oswald was unconscious on the bed, hooked up to a machine and lifeless. Edward sucked in a breath to hold, only releasing it when he saw the slight movement of the man’s chest. Oswald was alive. For now.

 

He ran to the bedside, trying to not to think about how pale and sickly the man looked – how he looked worse than when Edward had saved his life, all those years ago. He found Oswald’s hand, holding it, two fingers resting on the pulse point at his wrist. The weak, unsteady beats both calmed and worried him.

 

His other hand was closed around the glasses he had removed from Oswald’s face to observe the wound. The right lens was shattered beyond repair, but that hardly mattered when Oswald’s right eye was in the same condition.

 

“You have to survive,” he whispered, “You have to.”

 

His thumb stroked absent-mindedly across the back of Oswald’s hand as he held it.

 

“Don’t leave me alone again. Please,” he begged. His hand tightened slightly around the glasses and he forced himself to relax it. They, at least, he could preserve. He had kept Kristen’s glasses to remember her by; now he prayed to a god he didn’t believe in that he wouldn’t have to do the same for Oswald. He couldn’t imagine what his life would be without Oswald. The last time he had lost him, he had gotten so much worse. His mind drifted to the drugs, and he shook the memories away.

 

_Memories…_

_I can bring tears to your eyes and resurrect the dead. I form in an instant and last a lifetime. What am I?_

It was the riddle he had told Oswald when he was recovering from his mother’s death.

 

_“They’re like daggers in my heart_ ,” Oswald had said. Edward hadn’t understood him then.

 

He did now.

 

“I don’t want you to become a memory,” he whispered to the unconscious man.

 

And what memories did he have of them?

 

So few good ones, recently. Back in those days, in his old apartment, and his early days helping Oswald as mayor… those memories felt like a lifetime ago. The fresh ones seemed to bring only pain. Oswald betraying him. Oswald freezing him. Even when they were on good terms, they suffered for it. Edward remembered the torture he had endured for him, and the brief, shining blissful moment on the docks when he’d thought that maybe, just maybe, things could be right between them again.

 

And then he’d gone and messed it up.

 

But the worst, the _absolute worst,_ were the most recent memories: Oswald ignoring him. After bringing him and Lee back from the dead, Oswald had cut him out of his life. Replaced him with a dog.

 

Edward had been avoiding thinking about it _so_ successfully, but he could no longer ignore it. It hurt.

 

He wanted Oswald’s attention, as much as he hated to admit it. Even worse, he wanted Oswald’s approval. His admiration. He wanted Oswald to look at him like he used to. Like he thought Edward was brilliant. Like he thought he was perfect. Like he loved hi –

 

No.

 

Edward’s breath turned shallow as his mind went into overload.

 

He did _not_ want Oswald to love him.

 

Right?

 

But… he didn’t want Oswald gone. He looked back at the glasses in his hand, tears rolling down his cheeks. He _needed_ Oswald.

 

Memories weren’t enough. They never would be, but especially not when they were so lacking. He needed time to make more. He needed time to make newer, better ones. Tearful apologies and peaceful nights by the fire and dinners that weren’t missed and more of Oswald’s warm, comforting hugs.

 

He wanted memories of hand holding, of making him laugh, of _kissing_ him. The near-thing on that couch all that time ago was not enough. He couldn’t stand the idea that Oswald might die now, without ever having the chance to experience that. He wanted more. He needed more.

 

“Please stay with me,” he said, the fingers on his wrist stroking reverently over the most prominent vein, “Please. Wake up. I need you.”

 

As if he had heard him, Oswald shifted with a groan, and Edward’s head snapped up just in time to see his eyes flutter open.

 

“Ed?” he mumbled, voice cracking from his dry throat. If he had more to say, he didn’t get the chance, as Edward all but leapt forward, taking care only that Oswald wouldn’t be jostled as he cupped his face, leaning in and kissing his lips with all the intensity of a lover reunited with their other half at long last.

 

It was perfect for the seconds it lasted, before Edward returned to himself and realized what he was doing. He pulled back, mortified, face flushed bright red.

 

“I – I’m so sorry,” he mumbled, “I don’t know what came over me. I – I – I’ll go now.”

 

He covered his face with his hand in shame. What had he been thinking? Oswald didn’t love him anymore. He didn’t care about him, and he certainly didn’t want him invading his personal space and kissing him right after he woke up from a surgery. He didn’t know how he could face Oswald again. Oswald would live, but he’d be left with naught but his memories after all. He –

 

“Ed? Why?”

 

He froze in the doorway, hat in hand. Oswald deserved an answer…

 

Half turned toward Oswald, half looking anywhere else, he softly said, “You’re everything to me, Oswald, and it kills me that I’m nothing to you. I just – I wanted so badly for it to not be true, that I forgot myself. I’m sorry.”

 

He set Oswald’s glasses down on a nearby table. He’d lose Oswald and wouldn’t even get a token to remember him by. He didn’t deserve that much - not that it mattered. He’d never be able to forget him.

 

 

“Where are you going, Ed?”

 

“Somewhere where I won’t bother you in your recovery,” he replied. Oswald rolled his eyes, “Then you ought to stay right here.”

 

“What do you mean?” Edward turned to him, brows drawn back.

 

“If you leave, I’ll be worried about you. That counts as bothering me. I would much rather you stayed here, by my side.”

 

“Oswald…” Edward looked torn. He wanted to – oh how badly he wanted to – but he knew it would destroy him, being at Oswald’s side without being allowed to be on his arm.

 

“Come here, Ed,” Oswald ordered gently, and Edward was helpless to refuse him, walking over to the bed once again. When he was close enough, Oswald moved like a snake striking its victim as his hand shot out and grabbed Edward’s tie, yanking him down with far too much force for a man who had just been under the knife. He grabbed Edward’s head when it was in range, fingers twisting into his hair as he pulled him in for another kiss. When he let go, Edward could only stare at him, eyes wide.

 

“Much better,” Oswald nodded, satisfied. Then his smug expression melted, and he said, “I’m sorry, too, Ed. You _do_ mean everything to me, you know. I only pretend you don’t because I thought you didn’t feel the same.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yes, really,” Oswald told him, “I love you, Ed.”

 

“I – I,” Edward stumbled over the words, “I love you, too. Oswald.”

 

“I’m so glad to hear it,” Oswald said, “Now, you look like you’ve had a worse night than I, why don’t you join me.”

 

Edward cautiously laid beside Oswald, who immediately pulled him close and held him tight. As he lay there, wrapped in his love’s arm, he drifted off to the thought that his wish had come true. At last, they were making the kind of memories that could be cherished forever – and Edward couldn’t wait to make more.


End file.
